


Brock Rumlow- Don't

by Skellyagogo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Anxiety, Depression, Drunk Sex, F/M, Falling In Love, Female reader insert, Forbidden Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellyagogo/pseuds/Skellyagogo
Summary: You’ve got an itch to scratch, a need to fight, prove yourself.  It’s not until him that you feel something more, but what happens when the truth of it all comes out?*On a side note I suggest listening to the song 'Don't' by Jewel, it's what gave me the inspiration to write this, and I flip back and forth between his and your perspective.*
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Brock Rumlow- Don't

  


*********************

**“You are the love that came without warning; you had my heart before I could say no.”**

- **Anon**

She was a distraction from the first time I honestly noticed her in the gym taking out her frustrations on the bag. I did my best not to notice any of the agents any more than I had to, but she was a knockout. No gloves just taped up fingers and wrists. She was barefoot in shorts and a tank top, hair up in a high ponytail showing off a swan-like neck. Her attitude and stance set her apart from the others.

There was a fit of fiery anger boiling deep inside her, the telltale sign that she was itching for a fight. She needed to blow off steam, but none of the others were willing to take her on in the ring so she beat the fuck out of the bag instead. Rollins was lifting weights next to me, sighing and groaning following my eye line.

“Don’t go getting attached, you know what’s going to happen,” he growled, but who the fuck was he to tell me what to do?

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun until then now does it?” I wanted nothing more than to punch him in his stupid face, but I’d need him when the shit hit the fan.

I stalked her around the gym, catching glimpses of her dancing around the bag working it like a pro. That itch to fight just wasn’t scratched, she started kneeing the bag, kicking sending loud slaps of her barefoot on the bag echoing in the room. She was tough that much I could tell. If I were a betting man I’d take her in a fight against the Widow, might even give Cap a run for his money. Over and over she assaulted the bag, I watched impressed taping up my own hands. She worked the bag so aggressively she broke it, sand pouring all over the mat below.

  
“Damn it Y/n!” Cap called out from behind me annoyed. “That’s the third one this month.” She stood panting, whole body heaving to catch her breath before she turned towards Cap. Those damned eyes bored right through me before they fixated on Cap.

“Like you’re one to fucking talk asshole!” She growled back in defiance. “But if it pleases the fake Captain’s annoyance, I’ll fucking tape it up and it’ll be fine.” I had to admit that girl got me thinking some dirty thoughts hearing that mouth on her.

Cap was stomping forward fuming mad, most likely gonna do something stupid or make a scene. I held out my arm and shook my head.

“I got it, Cap, don’t worry.” His surprise was nothing new, my team hardly interacted with his. “You wanna go a round or two there Miss Fiesty?” She turned my way and grinned, nothing fancy, but past that flushed sweaty face was a woman I’d kill for just to kiss. My life went downhill after that day.

********

The party was too much, too loud. I could feel the bass of the music thumping in my teeth, and the edges of migraine were building. All these people only here to try and hook up with the guys, not that Tony, or Thor minded. Clint seemed offended he wasn’t hit on as much as the others and Steve, well Steve wasn’t sure what to do about all that attention. Bruce and Nat were off somewhere deep in whispered conversation making eyes at each other.

There was no way anyone would even know I was gone. Who cared if I left anyway? These damned parties were all the same when Stark threw them. Lots of alcohol, women that looked like they just stepped out of a photoshoot and sleazy guys who only wanted to pinch my ass and get money from Tony. I snuck out making my way to the elevators thanking my lucky stars no one saw me. I didn’t want to hear about how much of a wienie I was being for not staying.

Loud noises of the city flooding all my senses the second I stepped foot out of the Tower. Honking horns, stereos pumping away into the night. People pushing past me on the sidewalk. Out here I seemed invisible, didn’t matter if I’d just walked out of Stark Tower, I was surrounded by people who didn’t even give me a second glance, I reveled in it. I was tugging my sweatshirt hood over me when I heard his voice.

“Y/n, just the woman I was looking for.” Rumlow was leaning against the building, arms crossed with a cocky little smile on his face. I’d never seen him in anything other than his battle fatigues or workout clothes. How that man could make a simple black t-shirt and jeans that damned appealing was over my head.

“You must be mistaken,” I rolled my eyes hiding my elation of seeing him outside of work. I tried not to stumble walking towards him trying to hide the flutter storming inside me. Annoying childish high school crush like feelings that had been brewing inside since that day in the gym. “I have no idea who Y/n is.”

“That’s a shame,” he half frowned pushing himself off the wall walking towards me. Brock pulled my hood down watching my hair flying around in the wind. “I was here to ask Y/n out for a drink.”

“You could have done that upstairs for free.” I raised an eye confused, not as he’d never been to one of Tony’s infamous parties before.

“Nah, too many people vying for your attention. I’d get mad, might punch someone, probably not a good idea.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. He reached out tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Too many people vying for whose attention? Now I know you’re looking for someone else. No one even noticed I left.” I laughed nervously not sure what to think of him standing so close. The way his eyes were studying me, the musky woodland scent of his cologne.

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He nodded his head toward the Tower entrance. I turned to see Tony, Steve and Clint in the entryway with a mix of expressions watching Rumlow and I. “Told you, I’d have to fight for your attention. I think I do enough fighting at work, don’t you?” His smile widened seeing the flush on my face.

“Let’s get out of here before you feel the need to punch someone then,” I couldn’t help but laugh. He slung an arm around my shoulders and off we went down the street into the night.

**********

I laid in bed tossing and turning for hours before I gave up. The Tower had become loud and crowded and I oftentimes found myself staying in the living quarters at SHIELD. It wasn’t that it was too hot in my room just that my mind wouldn’t shut off. It wouldn’t stop thinking about him as I stared out at the stars from my tiny window. The bouts in the ring during training. It started as boxing but we were matched in moves and style. Every hit met with a counter-attack so we switched to free for all. Mixed Martial Arts, a touch of Krav Maga, kickboxing, mainly an all-out grapple fest. When we were feeling particularly feisty we brought in weapons, him and his Tazer Rods and me with my trusty combat knives.

There were plenty of cuts and bruises, sometimes a little hurt pride and ego, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. I’d like to think he thought of me as an equal, not an easy target. There was one time he pushed Rollins into the ring with me because he was tired of hearing Rollins talking shit saying Brock was taking it easy on me. It only took five minutes until I had Rollins knocked out cold on the floor, a feat Brock recorded on his phone. He said he watched it whenever he needed a good laugh.

Neither of us wanted to concede while fighting, and it always drew a crowd sometimes lasting two hours or longer. All sides of the ring surrounded, agents and the like cheering him on and Rollins screaming the loudest to kick my ass. Steve, Nat, and Clint were on my side yelling over Rollins. It didn’t bother me one bit. Brock never failed to give me the fight I wanted. He challenged me, pushed me harder each session like he was prepping me. Pushing me farther past exhaustion each time, never letting me give up when he saw the overly tired glaze in my eyes. The training sessions always ended the same way though, one of us pinned to the mat.

Sweat dripping off our bodies, matted wet hair clinging to our skin, panting for breath. The weight of the other giving just enough pressure to feel better than it should have. There was something primal the way he looked at me at that moment. Never mattered if he was on top or looking up from below me, it was the same needy expression. I likened it to a wolf seeing its prey. The victor would eventually get up smirking, chest heaving and hold out their hand to help the other up.

Groaning I threw my legs off the bed, scrambled to find a shirt. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun and grabbed my stolen prize from the back of my closet. Barefoot, clad in a t-shirt and a pair of flannel sleep shorts I headed out in the hall and a floor up to his. I almost turned back when I got to his door, not too many people would be up at this hour but I could hear music playing through his door.

I knocked and started cursing myself in my head thinking maybe he was asleep. He’d be pissed, maybe he’d yell about the interruption. I knew he had the next day off the same as me maybe he just wanted to be alone. Heavy footsteps tromped behind the door before it flung open hastily. Brock looked angry for all of two seconds until that cocky little smile crossed over his mouth. He crossed his arms leaning on the door frame in only a pair of loose grey sweats and I found myself staring most certainly internally drooling.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.” My nervous smile had him, his shoulders relaxed, though he still looked out of sorts as to why I was in his door so late at night. He ducked his head out in the hallway glancing both ways. Fraternization wasn’t exactly a no-no, but it was highly frowned upon. “Drink?”

I shook a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in my hands as a peace offering hoping I hadn’t woken him up. He closed his eyes smiling, his head dropped forward like he was avoiding giving away that this was the only interruption he could have asked for. Brock laughed and stepped away from the door allowing me in.

“How could I refuse a smile like that.” I could feel his eyes on me walking across his room avoiding his bed, instead settling on his couch. I always had this feeling of being watched in headquarters, not because of the camera system, but the familiarness of him like how he looked at me after one of us was pinned to the mat.

His room was basic, minimalist like mine, but somehow he’d gotten a room with a killer view of the city. I found it funny that his couch was angled facing the large window instead of a tv. Then again with how the city outside was lit up in the night, twinkling lights as far as the eye could see, I understood. He was silent as he sat beside me, far enough away to not be uncomfortable but close enough to feel the heat of his skin on mine. He took the bottle from my hands and poured some in each glass.

“Are we drinking for something special?” He questioned setting the bottle on the table beside him. The way he watched me, eyeing me from bottom to top, lingering on my lips.

“Only my inability to sleep and fear of drinking alone,” I snorted laughing taking a sip.

“Fair enough,” he smiled gulping his own. “Shit baby girl this is the good stuff.” His head turned my way impressed.

“I might have snatched it from the Tower during the last party.” I shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal, but it only made him laugh.

We talked for a while, random things like places we’d been, missions and life before SHIELD. There wasn’t anything about this Brock that was the same as Brock Rumlow in uniform. It was like a 180 in personality. More than half the bottle was gone before we settled into a comfortable silence staring out the window watching the quiet silence outside in the darkness. Most of the world out there asleep in their beds, dreaming of things they wanted.

I found myself lost in thought when the warmth of his hand enveloped mine. He settled his hand under mine, curling his fingers around mine. Hardened and calloused from too many fights, but it was gentle and warm. I glanced his way shocked at the tiny act of intimacy and smiled feeling his thumb sweeping across my skin. He wore a smile, not cocky or smug, but oddly sweet for someone with his exterior. He took my glass and set it aside pulling me up from the couch.

We stood in front of that window slightly buzzed and smiling like fools. He ran his hands from my waist and up my arms grabbing my wrists setting them around his neck, letting his rest precariously on my hips. A song I hadn’t heard in years and nothing I ever expected to hear him listening to fill the room, Don’t by Jewel. He held me close moving us slowly, dancing, swaying side to side.

My brain finally decided it was time to shut down and stop working, I could only stare at him trying to hide the flush I felt creeping up my neck. Blotchy red marks radiating nervous heat giving my thoughts away only making his smile widen. He’d been the only person to ever put me in such a state of nervous chaotic energy like this. The predator had his prey in his clutches.

His knuckles swept lightly over my cheek as we swayed on the spot, his thumb danced over my lips. That first kiss was harsh and rough, fed on all those times in the ring. Moaning into his mouth, feeling his fingers roughly tangling in my hair holding my head close to him. There was a saying when I was growing up, ‘watch out for the man with roaming hands and rushing fingers’. I never understood that until now. This isn’t what I intended when I came up here, but there wasn’t any denying I wanted it. He pulled away and took a step back, wore a startled expression on his face.

“Fuck… I shouldn’t have done that.” The Great Brock Rumlow looked as if he’d been caught robbing a bank. Shame swept over his face and his eyes darted to the floor.

He attempted to walk away as if it would change the fact he just kissed me. There was so much streaming through his eyes, but I couldn’t get over how much that kiss affected me. Little bolts of electricity still zooming through me in an abnormally calm way. That nagging urge to fight and prove myself time and time again gone. Feelings of never being good enough, never living up to the standard that Coulson and Fury held me to. That itch I couldn’t scratch had melted away in that kiss.

Two steps, two strides was all it took before I wound myself around him. Fingers forcing him to look at me, feeling that rapid thumping beat pounding inside his chest. His deep amber whiskey-colored eyes wanting to look anywhere but me. I said nothing but pressed my lips to his. Perhaps the most gentle thing I’d ever done in my life was kissing him softly at that moment. A delicate touch against such supple lips, he matched me in tone and intent. Slow and steady steps nudging him backward until his calves smacked his mattress.

The question he conveyed in his eyes met only with a nod and a tiny smile. He took his time tucking his fingers under the hem of my shirt. Pulling it up and over my head as if it were as volatile as an explosive. It landed balled up somewhere in a corner lost in the darkness. The smirk that hung on his mouth feeling my fingers hooking around the waistband of his sweats and the feel of the cool night air as they fell to the floor. The way he sucked in his lip seeing my shorts fall to the floor landing atop his sweats.

Admiring the view before him, fingers trailing over every curve. He didn’t fight when I pushed him down on the bed nor when I knelt between his thighs. Brock only watched with that hungry predatory look. He let out a low moan as I took him in my mouth, twirling my tongue around his shaft. His palms rested on the bed behind him as he leaned back watching the show play out before him. Everything that had filled his mind was fleeing in a hurry replaced with calmness.

Brock let it all go, all his worries and troubles and closed his eyes letting his head fall back. The sound of his deep groans of bliss, an exciting relief washed over him feeling my lips around him. Bobbing and sucking, the slurping sound only making it harder for him to hold on. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman touched him like that without demanding money. It felt so good he didn’t want it to stop, but like all things, the good ones never last.

Sensing the rigidness in his body I smiled. He tried to pull out, pull away, but I wouldn’t let him. Instead, he watched my eyes, studied the glint in them in his release. How they smoldered seeing him growling out in euphoric bliss. The way my lip curled on the side as I swallowed everything he had. It was maddening to him and I could see it in his face. He watched in confused awe as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. How casual my walk was back to the whiskey knocking back a shot smiling to myself.

“Your turn baby girl, can’t leave you hanging or you’ll take it out on me in the ring,” he muttered snaking his arms around my waist kissing my shoulder pulling me back to his bed.

I laid on my back, biting my lip thinking I was in for trouble, the rough and harshness that seemed to follow him where ever he went but it never came. Instead, I was met with feathery light touches, soft kisses placed where ever he felt like it. Lips streaking over my breasts. A hot, wet tongue claiming each nipple in a lavish flourish of attention. Finger mapping every spot that caused an involuntary moan to escape my mouth.

His lips devoured mine in slow passion, drawn-out, deliberate. The soft scratch of his facial hair while kissing down my neck. A trail rewarded in soft warmth the lower he traveled, ending his search between my thighs. The fan of his hot breath over my folds, a quieted laugh seeing the way my body shuddered in anticipation. Fingers inside working leisurely, sliding in, curling on the way out making my body vibrate craving more.

His usually sharp-witted tongue oozing with witty comebacks silenced encircling my clit. Nibbling and sucking just roughly enough to watch my back arch up off the bed. I must have said 'fuck’ in every language I could manage. He wouldn’t stop even after I cried out his name, body rupturing in full-blown spasms riding against his face. He only shook his head spastically side to side, tongue flicker over that engorged nub of mine. He was pushing me to the limit like he always did. I was on fire, burning hot and tingling. Pulsing, thumping away as his tongue licked away.

He knew I was ready for another orgasm like he could sense it. That rough overly sensitive one that made you see stars on the verge of blacking out. Lustful grunts filled his chest wanting to feel it, to see it, see how I fell apart at his touch again. See the wondrous mess he created dripping between my legs. That damned tongue of his wouldn’t quit until my vision grew dark and my voice hoarse from straining to keep the whole floor from hearing me.

He smiled crawling on top me, watching the struggle to catch my breath, the beads of sweat clinging to my hairline. He kissed me as if he was afraid to forget what it felt like. That blessed cursed tongue claiming entrance between parted lips. Laying waste to mine, curling and wrapping itself around. A salty-sweet dance that caused him to groan. Brock rested an arm next to my head, forehead resting on mine while his free hand moved its way south.

His tip sliding up and down my wet folds, teasing. A subtle glance as if he was asking if this was what I wanted, only to be answered with lips crashing into his. The momentary sting as he slid in, deeper, slowly deeper. I closed my eyes, heavy in-breath the way he filled me. He let his hand rest on my jawline, thumb holding my face upright examining my eyes for any trace I didn’t want it. He smiled feeling me move my hips against his, prodding him to move.

“Don’t think I’m not gonna get you somewhere so I can hear you screaming,” he growled a soft laugh.

Kissing, so much kissing, tender, long and slow matched with the thrusts of his hips. I didn’t think he was this capable of such passion. Brock was disciplined in his movements, every thrust planned, timed just right. I felt like I was ready to burst, a literal dam ready to drown the world in. I tried my damnedest to quicken his pace but he only shook his head denying me.

“I’ve been rough enough in my life baby girl, enjoy the slow ride,” he chuckled nipping my neck.

Brock made it all feel so wickedly sinful yet heavenly like I’d never felt before. He made it seem like every man before he had done it all wrong. Each touch, every thrust, the endless delicately placed kisses replaced all the ones from my past like my brain was rewiring itself earmarking him as the first for it all. I reached above me searching for something to hold on to. The need to hold tightly to something the longer he drew out our pleasure met with his strong hand. Fingers laced in mine allowing me to savagely squeeze on.

Too many times I felt myself getting to that edge, feeling the cusp of orgasm just over the ridge to be met with him pulling out. He grinned down at me, a genuine adoring smile. Lazy kisses placed on the tip of my nose and temple to hide his elation hearing the pleading in my breath. He was leaving me whining wanting more, he clicked his tongue in amusement. Carefully pushing me to lay on my side, he laid behind me. Lifting my thigh just enough to push himself back in, draping my leg over his.

His arm under my neck and crossed over my chest holding me close. Hot breath fanning over my neck sending a shiver straight to my toes. Pumping, thrusting lazily, lavishing me in ways I didn’t think possible. The only semblance of how much time had passed since I first walked through his door were rays of the early morning sun rising upward through his window. The city outside lit up in pinks and purples, and hints of gold.

Brock let his free hand dip inside, fingers rubbing against my clit. Thrust was a little rougher, faster. On edge I was whimpering for release, digging my nails into his thigh. Grunting and panting, harsh thrusts and my cries of his name sent him over spilling inside, sticky ribbons coated all over. Wetness seeping out between us, exhaustion, sweet deserving exhaustion taking hold. He reluctantly left the bed entering his bathroom. I dozed in and out hearing the faucet turn on, only coming to feeling the damp hot cloth between my legs. Peeking through tired lids to see surprised satisfaction on his face.

He laid behind me again hugging me tight to his chest, sleepy kisses laced over my shoulder and behind my ear. The only sounds were the erratic thumping of heartbeats and lungs gasping for air. A silky cool blanket pulled up and over our waists. He settled his head in the crook of my neck smiling hearing me fight back a giggle as his fingers traced over my skin. That was how every free night we had was spent. The same slow passionate take all night into early morning sex.

***********

“You can’t keep seeing her!” Rollins growled in the locker room. The rest of the STRIKE team had already left headed towards the jet. “Enough is enough Rumlow. You’ve had your fun now fucking stop it!”

He’d spotted us out driving around the city. I only wanted to see how it felt being out with her, acting like normal people, not trained killers. Any place with her always felt the same, like a home away from home and I craved it. I fucking craved the way she made me feel like it was a damned drug. Rollins even went as far as tailing us to the restaurant and sat in the back glaring. Like I didn’t know the fucker was there watching like some crazed pervert. Anytime Y/n and I left on a day off, even if we left in separate vehicles and met up elsewhere, that fucker was watching and I’d had enough.

“DON’T fucking tell me what to do! I made you what you are and I will fucking break you!” I got in his face shoving him, pinning him against the wall by his neck with my forearm.

“Pierce is gonna find out, and then what huh?” Rollins spit enraged. “You’re gonna fuck everything up and for what, pussy? Can’t be that good by how pissy you’ve been lately.” I saw nothing but red at that point, smashing my fist in his face over and over.

“I should have cut your fucking tongue out when I had the damned chance!” I was seething, who the fuck did this little shit think he was? “You touch a fucking hair on her head or so much as a glance in her direction and I will fucking kill you. I don’t give a shit about Pierce.”

Rollins was fuming, spitting blood all over the floor before stalking off. Pacing myself back and forth trying to cool down but it wasn’t working. That fucking punk bitch mouthing off about what he knew nothing about. I slammed my fist into the lockers pissed off at myself. How in the hell did I let it happen? How’d I let her get to me like that? She’d done the impossible and made me love her.

“FUCK!” Pounding my fist in the locker again.

“Hello?” The doors to the locker room swinging open, Y/n walking in looking all curious and worried while sweeping through the rows of lockers with her knife raised at the ready. “Brock?” Those eyes and how they looked my way as she put her knife away in her thigh holster.

“It’s fine,” I shook my head giving her a strained smile.

She didn’t need to see me like this. Those damned soft hands of hers, those slender fingers had my hand in hers examining my busted knuckles. Her eyes scrunched in concern, how the hell was this woman even real? What in the fuck did I ever do right in my life to be graced with her presence?

“What happened?” She spoke so damned tenderhearted I couldn’t take it feeling that ache in my chest. Jesus, fuck I didn’t even know I could feel like this.

“Disagreement with Rollins, it’s nothing.” She let go and walked away only to come back with a medkit.

“Doesn’t look like nothing, but none of my business.” How she managed to shrug her shoulders in such a damned snarky way and turn me on at the same time I couldn’t figure out. She didn’t question me anymore, only stood there cleaning off the blood and bandaging them up. “Your middle knuckle is broken, so be careful.” She nodded her head toward the door Johnson was poking his head through waiting on me.

“Well fuck baby girl, it almost sounds like you care. Might even sound like you love me or something.” I chuckled poking fun of her and that little worried look she wore in her eyes when I left on a mission without her.

“Ugh,” playfully rolling her eyes. “If something happens to you then I have to fill out paperwork and explain why I let you go on a mission injured without telling someone. Cap would reem my ass over it too.”

She rolled her eyes again groaning, but then second Johnson was out of view she was all over me. Hands clutching onto my flack vest tugging me towards her. Each kiss left me feeling more screwed. Rollins was right, what if Pierce found out?

“And what if I do love you?” She laughed pushing me towards the door hearing Johnson yelling for me to hurry it up.

“I’ll be fine, but it’s cute knowing you care. My room later, maybe discuss this little love issue properly.” I gave her a wink to ease her mind before jogging off through the door.

**********

“Y/n, answer me! Anyone got eyes on Y/n?” Steve frantic through the comms, his attempt at calm a complete failure.

The mission was to infiltrate a tanker vessel and rescue SHIELD hostages. We all had our parts to play. Brock gave Y/n a subtle wink before he disappeared with Rollins in tow. Nothing went according to plan, then again when does it ever. Nat wasn’t answering on comms, hostiles were still in play all over the ship. Y/n had taken down her fair share, but none of them were expecting the explosion that rocked the ship.

“Her beacon is a half-mile behind us,” Nat moaned out picking herself up off the floor. STRIKE team and Cap had taken down the rest of the terrorists. Brock and Rollins freed the hostages.

“What do you mean behind us?” Steve gasped looking over the edge of the ship at the rough waters below.

“I’m taking a wild guess here Steve, but I’m going to assume she got caught up in that blast.” Nat snipped back harsher than she’d ever spoken to Steve before.

Brock heard it all through the comms and came running out of a hatch at full speed coming to a stop beside Steve. He didn’t say a word, tore out the commlink in his ear and dropped his weapons on the deck at Steve’s feet. He dove over the edge of the ship before anyone could stop what he was doing.

“What the hell Rumlow!?” Steve screamed over the edge of the ship staring at the water in horror searching for any signs of Brock. Rough seas and a New Moon had Steve in panic glancing around at Nat and the rest of the STRIKE team. “Get to the boats and start searching, now!”

*********

There was no telling how long she’d been unconscious by the time I found her, half-floating in the water. Her gear wearing her down trying to drown her. She could hate me later for this but I cut off her flack vest and tried emptying her pockets to lessen her weight. I could replace her beloved knives and gear, but not her. It was too hard to see in the darkness but I could smell the burns, an acrid smell clinging onto her even in the water. My fingers were crossed that it was only her gear that had been burned and not her.

“Come on Y/n, wake up,” grunting out the command as if she’d listen. I knew I’d have to tread for the both of us. I kept her close, head above water.

Her pulse was weakening and her body temperature was dropping fast. The water was rough, waves crashing over our heads. It was a battle in itself trying to keep her head out of the water let alone adding myself in the mix. I tried to keep her head near mine so I could feel her breath, but I had a sick feeling I couldn’t shake.

“Don’t you die on me, baby girl.” I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

I wasn’t trained to be like this, to allow myself something deeper. Hydra had a mission, I had orders to follow and fallen for her wasn’t one of them. It was like my brain was fighting against itself. One side could only think of her. The other repeating the same damned shit that had been drilled into me since day one. 'There are no prisoners with Hydra, just order. And order only comes through pain.’ Flashes of being tortured into compliance were brawling against images of her smiling up at me in bed.

“Come on wake up! I’ll find a way to stop them, just fucking wake up baby girl.” How did she have me freaking out like this? Scrambling to save something I didn’t deserve. I was willing to throw it all away and oust Hydra before Pierce was ready and all because I couldn’t lose her.

The engine of the lifeboat roaring through the noise of the waves. Cap was bellowing out our names. I yelled as loud as I could and held onto her, too afraid to let go. How could I be that delusional in my thinking? She’d been all I could think about for the last few months. It had me questioning everything. They had to pry her from my arms to get her into the boat, something inside was fighting to keep her with me.

“She’s not breathing!” Steve cried out no longer calm, his hands were shaking at his sides.

I shoved him out of the way harder than I should have and started CPR. I could feel Rollins glaring at me from the back of the boat as we sped towards our vessel. Her skin was dulling, changing colors. Her lips going cold and blue. Compressions and breathing in her mouth, rinse and repeat but nothing. I was screaming and raging inside my head, trying to hold it together and not show a damned thing on the outside.

“Christ Brock,” she coughed, spitting up water gasping for breath. “Fucking buy me dinner next you wanna kiss me like that,” she muttered sitting up seeing my face change from worry to relieved.

Completely taken aback when she sat up, I smashed her whole body into my chest. She was still struggling for air but her arms weakly pulled themselves around me. I knelt there not sure what to do feeling her burrow her head into me. She was clinging on like she could sense my fear. My mind was telling me one thing with the others watching, my moronic heart saying another. Pierce was sure to find out about it all now and I’d do everything I could to keep her safe even it meant time in the Chair again.

I hesitated, they were all watching our every move, I gave in slinking a hand behind her head keeping her close. Cap and Nat both exchanged a look. I knew Y/n could hear how fast my heart was beating, but I hoped she’d just think it was from the adrenaline. She sighed quietly, but I felt her break, felt the silent sob when I started to stroke her back rubbing some warmth into her. A dozen things running in my mind I’ve wanted to say for months, but none of them dared come forward, not in front of the Widow or Cap, let alone Rollins.

“Shut up,” I grumbled incapable of hiding my smile. “If you died then I got a night of paperwork, I hate paperwork.” I accepted the blanket Nat held out and wrapped it around her, not giving myself a second thought.

She was deep asleep by the time we arrived at headquarters. Cap demanded she was taken to get checked out. He didn’t need to say another word. I gladly scooped her up from the Quinn without letting him finish and carried her down the ramp heading towards Medbay. I argued with the doctors before they relented and spent the night watching over her. This woman managed to accomplish the impossible. She crawled her way inside of me giving me a glimpse of hope and a life without pain.

***********

I knew where I was before I even opened my eyes, the smell of disinfectant and starched sheets was heavy in the room. Low beeping buzzing in my ear from the machine monitoring my vitals. Prying my eyes open I stared at the ceiling afraid to look anywhere else. There was a stinging sensation in my shoulder. I remembered the bomb detonating. The wall of heat and fire that knocked me off the ship and hitting my head on the way down.

There were moments in the water when I thought I was going to die. My gear was so heavy and it only got worse the longer I was in the water. All of it soaking up the ocean like sponge threatening to pull me under. Waves crashing all around me, dousing me in water. I remembered the pain in my shoulder and trying to tear off my vest but I couldn’t. I was struggling to tread water, my legs didn’t want to keep up anymore.

The water was icy cold, frigid waves constantly slapping against me throwing me around. I called out, screamed as loud as I could but there was nothing but darkness. I felt myself fading away. I wanted to fight, wanted to keep going, but I was too cold and tired. My only regret was never actually saying 'I love you’ out loud. We never did talk about 'love’ that night, he looked afraid to even bring it up so we left that bit bookmarked in silence. I knew in the back of my mind the whole thing was probably nothing more than friends with benefits to him, but there was no denying that ache in my chest.

Opening my eyes I scanned the room, it was quiet for late morning judging by the sun through the window. The throbbing pain in my shoulder as I tried to sit up had me clenching my jaw in agony. It was heavily bandaged and sore beyond belief. Reaching around inside the drawers of the table next to me I found a mirror, afraid to look at what I’d see. The bandage was soaked and coated in burn creams, my hair was partially singed on one side, but that was all.

How the hell did I manage to come out virtually unscathed when I knew I felt that heat, that fire dead on me? A nurse had come in to check on me and went about her routine. It was like she too was afraid to look at me.

“Who sat in that chair?” I asked pointing to the only object that seemed out of place in the room. Angled closely beside the bed. She swallowed hard and glanced towards the door.

“There were some arguments with the staff when you were brought in last night. He wouldn’t listen to the doctors and refused to leave your side. He only left once briefly ordering his men to stand guard outside the door. He wasn’t back for very long before Director Fury came and ordered him out.” She kept glancing at the door as if telling me all of this would get her into trouble.

“Who sat there all night?” Part of me knew, but I wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear his name said out loud.

“Rumlow, Brock Rumlow.” She leaned on the bed and shook her head. “I was here when they wheeled you in. I’ve never seen a member of the STRIKE team look like that. Rabid and helpless at the same time. He looked like his whole world was crumbling down around him.”

I saw it after she left. It was alone and out of place. It wasn’t uncommon for those in a hospital to receive flowers when sick or injured, but this felt different. It was somewhat rare and an uncommon thing to see. A blooming lotus in a glass bowl in the same shades of pink that graced the world with its presence in the early morning hours of dawn. A tiny folded piece of paper sat next to it.

**“To the one who survives and blooms in the places she shouldn’t. I should have said it in person a long time ago, but I love you.” -BR**

***********

It was all still too much to process, everything spiraled out of control so fast. One second I’m in the parking garage locking my car heading in to catch up on paperwork that piled up while I was in the hospital, the next I’m on the back of Steve’s bike racing down the bridge taking out a jet and being declared an Enemy of SHIELD. We were on the run with Natasha in tow. The flash drive of information she’d recovered that night on the ship weighed heavily between the three of us. A stupid piece of plastic and metal full of secrets that someone killed Fury over.

Nat suggested checking it out and off we went in disguise. I was on watch from a floor above in the mall while they entered the electronics store to use their laptops. I kept scanning the floors, the crowds of people clutching my phone in my hands. The last message I’d received staring up at me in bold blocky letters.

**'GET OUT NOW!!!!! Go dark, I’ll find you baby girl.’ -Brock**

I could see STRIKE team weaving in and out of the crowd, even in civilian clothing you couldn’t mistake the flow of their movements. Steve looked up and out directly at me and I signaled they were here and getting close. I watched them leave the store nonchalantly looking like a couple. We met up at the escalators and rode down to head towards the garage. There was Brock on the floor below us calling out for his team to sweep the area and move towards him.

Nat and Steve were a couple of people ahead of me on the escalator, they kissed to hide from Brock. He didn’t notice them, but he saw me. In all my time with SHIELD, all the time I’d spent working with him, loving him, being with him, I’d never seen the look of pure fear that flooded his face. Brock opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He clenched his jaw biting the inside of his cheek.

He was panicking and now I could see what the nurse meant by his look of rabid and helpless at the same time. He called out in the coms that his section was clear. Eyes twitching in regret he slammed his fist on the handrail of the escalator and mouthed 'RUN’. He turned away and met with Rollins at the top headed off to clear another section. I could still feel his gaze on me as I stepped off the escalator, promptly dropping my phone in the trash can and sped walked out of sight.

**********

“So was that your first kiss since 1945?” Nat asked Steve smirking from the front seat of the truck we 'borrowed’ from the mall’s parking garage.

“That bad huh?” Steve sighed. They carried on their banter the rest of the drive to the coordinates.

My mind was racing and nothing made sense. What in the hell was on this damned flash drive that now had me running for my life? How the hell did my life get turned upside so quickly? He let me go, Brock -follow- the- book -Rumlow let me go instead of hauling me in. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and the walls were closing in around me. My chest was heaving, my heart racing. So this was what panic attack felt like, inevitable death.

*********

We pulled up outside Camp Lehigh, the same base Steve trained at pre-serum. Climbed our way into a secret bunker where SHIELD started and into the heart of Hydra deeper inside. Zola spoke through the computers spouting histories of Steve and Natasha, but he was perplexed when it came to me.

“Agent Y/l/n, the wild card, the variable that went unseen. The troublesome variable that even my algorithm couldn’t detect.” His voice so Haute and condescending through the speakers.

“What the hell is he talking about Y/n?” Steve questioned confused as he scrutinized my every move.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about? I’m nothing, a nobody,” I shook my head in a daze. It was too much, none of this could be real. I was still in the hospital in a feverish delirium. I even pinched my arm, but here I was deep in a hidden bunker with Steve and Nat glaring at me in suspicion.

“How did you manage it Y/n?” Zola laughed maniacally. “How did someone such as yourself manage to make one of Hydra’s best fall in love with you? To make him question his mission and the work of Hydra?” I felt my legs wobble, my knees ready to buckle. How did this machine, this mad creation know about Brock?

“You… you and Rumlow are together?” Natasha was furious, she let her eyes betray her stoic demeanor.

“I didn’t know he was Hydra! I swear on my life I didn’t know!” All the air was sucked out of my lungs, I felt like my heart was being crushed and twisted inside my chest.

“We’ve got incoming,” Nat screamed seeing the missiles flying in hot on her comm device.

Steve pulled a grate off the floor and shoved us both inside as the missile hit pulling his shield overhead to protect as much as he could. Fire and debris raining down. The whole bunker crumbling around us. Dust and ash from the fire filling my lungs. Gasping and coughing for air, I could feel Steve pulling Nat out of the rubble. The sounds of boot steps and incoming choppers filled the night air.

“I’ll come back Y/n, hold tight,” Steve whispered carried Nat into the cover of the forest’s edge.

A sharp pain throbbed through my leg, I tried to move, to hide from whoever was coming but I was met with heavy resistance. A large chunk of the building lay across my calf. I felt the adrenaline coursing through me, but it wouldn’t do me any good, I didn’t have anything for a weapon in reach. Heavy boot steps crunching in the rubble a few yards away from me set me in a panic. 'This was it’, I thought and I readied myself.

Pinned like an animal, like it wasn’t bad enough I was gimped by my shoulder, but to die like a caged animal. I closed my eyes and held my breath, fingers crossed they wouldn’t see me. Maybe I was tucked far enough inside this chaos they wouldn’t find me, but he did. His rifle raised as he swept the area instantly dropped the moment he saw me.

“Damn it baby girl,” he rushed to my side pulling the block of concrete off my leg, fingers gingerly checking for a broken bone. “I told you to run.”

“I did,” I hissed biting back a rage of tears. “Was any of it real?” I glared wanting so desperately to understand. Maybe it was a shell game, he was conning them to get to the top and take them out.

“All of it, I never meant for any of this to happen to you.” The same panicked frightened look in his eyes. “You gotta get out of here.” He helped me up and kept me low skirting through the rubble. Brock gave my hand one last squeeze watching me disappear into the trees.

*********

Rollins watched it all from the shadows, the smoke and crackling of the still-burning rubble of the bunker cloaked him in darkness. His rifle was poised and ready to shoot, but a venomous smile curled on his mouth at the idea. He turned on his chest camera and followed behind Rumlow. There would be no denying it now, Rumlow wouldn’t be able to talk his way out it and Alexander Pierce would see it all.

He got footage of Brock as he found her in the shambles of what was left of the building. How uncharacteristically gentle he was saving her. Lifting the chunk of bunker off her leg and pulling her to her feet. The way he looked at her, touched her, that disgusting hug. How protectively he led her to safety holding onto her hand. It sickened him and yet he couldn’t wait to see the punishment Pierce would rain down on Rumlow. He broke ranks, broke the order and Rollins couldn’t wait to see the pain.

“I got eyes on shoe prints,” Brock called out in his comms, but there was no response.

The team was surrounding him, circling him, trapping him like the traitor he was under Rollins’ command. He fought and struggled, but in the end, they had him. Stripped of his weapons, he was cuffed and tossed inside the jet. Rollins took pleasure in his revenge, punching him repeatedly until Brock slumped to the ground unconscious.

Brock woke hours later, groggy and sore strapped into the chair. Dazed, he blinked his eyes, figures in the distance coming into view. The Winter Soldier, Alexander Pierce, Rollins and some of his team stood tall and smug. Pierce held himself above them all with his air of authority. Brock struggled against the restraints knowing what was coming. Wrists, biceps, chest, head, thighs, and ankles all locked behind metal restraints. It wasn’t just any chair, it was the Winter’s Soldiers. The very set up Brock had seen used countless times to make him comply and wipe his memory after a mission.

He knew it was useless, there was no getting out of this. Knowing his fate didn’t stop his anger. The pain was something he’d become accustomed to so Pierce could torture him all he wanted, he wouldn’t break. Clenching his jaw in anticipation he glared down Pierce as he came closer. He’d take whatever was thrown his way not like he didn’t feel he deserved it anyhow. His only worry was whether or not she got away.

“It’s a shame about your little romance Rumlow.” Pierce stood before him, hands in his pockets peering down at him. “How’d she manage it huh? How’d some lowly little nothing break the programming?”

Brock said nothing, only pursed his mouth staring Pierce down. A bout of defiance running wild through him aided by adrenaline. She had to be safe, she was with Cap and Widow. Y/n’s smart, and scrappy, he just hoped she wouldn’t do anything too stupid. Running around with Cap and his haphazard regard for his own life had seemed to brush off on her. He started to laugh thinking about the time she followed Cap jumping out of a jet without a parachute. The odd action had Pierce scrunching his eyes not expecting that.

“Where is Captain America?” Pierce growled, his anger only got worse as Brock laughed louder. “Where is the Black Widow?” Brock only erupted further in deep laughter. It was menacing and unnerving. The only two in the room who seemed unaffected by it were The Winter Soldier and Pierce.

“Very well, just know you brought this upon yourself.” Pierce nodded his head toward a waiting doctor.

A mouth guard was forced into Brock’s mouth, and electrodes thrust on his temples. The machine roaring to life, crackles of electricity filling the air. The doctor stood unphased adjusting dials increasing the voltage awaiting Pierce’s command.

“When we do find your little girlfriend Rumlow and we will find her. She’s going to suffer and you’ll watch the entire show unable to do a thing.” Pierce turned towards the Winter Soldier. “Find Captain America and kill him and if you run across Agent Y/l//n well maim her just because I think it’s fun.”

Brock watched The Winter Soldier leave the room. Growling and screaming through the mouth guard stuffed inside. His body shook and struggled against the chairs hold. Pierce smiled making out the only word Brock was calling out, 'no’. Pierce smiled wildly seeing Rumlow slowly breaking and motioned for the doctor to begin. Shrill screams of pain echoed in the room, Brock’s body shook and rigidly jolted against the restraints. The doctor kept going until Brock could no longer move. He was passed out cold and ready to reprogram.

***********

I sat on the edge of Sam’s bed drying my hair, my clothes were still dirty and stained, but the shower felt nice. Staring off into space, absentmindedly running the towel over my hair. I could hear Nat and Steve arguing in the next room. My name coming up more than once, hushed but raised voices. Sam poked his head in his bedroom door with a soft smile trying to offer a distraction.

“You alright baby girl? I made some breakfast if you’re hungry.” If he noticed me flinch at that pet name he didn’t make it known. Heavy steps thundering down the hall behind Sam and Nat pushed her way past him.

“What the hell Y/n, dating the enemy? For how long? How could you not know something was up? Did he know about Fury, about the flash drive? What did you tell him huh?” She advanced on me. I stood ready to defend myself as she got into my face. “How many people died because you were too busy fucking the bad guy huh? How many secrets did you reveal in the throws of passion?”

I felt my whole body seize up and tense. Filled with anger, disgust, complete and utter heartache. There wasn’t anything that I could say that would lessen her wrath. I wanted to be anywhere but here, I wanted to go back in time and prevent it all. Keep me from getting caught up in all of this, stop Hydra before they ordered the hit of Fury. All I could do was lower my head and stare at the carpet as my body shivered. Tears silently spilled out and fled wetting my clothes, dripping to the carpet below. I should have known, I should have seen that something was wrong. How could I not when the only man to take any interest in me turned out to be my enemy.

“Tasha enough,” Steve spoke up from beside Sam. He no longer looked at me as if I was a traitor, only a woman caught up in something I couldn’t have helped.

“No, it’s not,” Nat turned her venom on Steve. “Fury is dead because of her!”

“I said ENOUGH! Y/n had nothing to do with any of this and you know it,” he growled with authority. “Look at her Nat, look. That’s not how someone looks who knew. Not even you could pull off faking that heartbreak.”

“I swear,” I choked on my voice, sniffling, wiping my eyes. “I-I thought… I thought he loved me.” Nat’s gaze slowly softened seeing how right Steve was. She was hardly surprised when she was shoved aside by Sam who took my hand.

“Come on baby girl, you need something with sugar. I find sugar eases that kind of ache. You’re in luck I made my famous chocolate chip waffles.” He hadn’t meant to sound so flirty and it earned a look from Steve, but Sam kept moving gently pulling me towards the kitchen and I didn’t fight it.

************

It was a whirlwind of actions, one second we’re driving down the highway with Agent Sitwell, the next the Winter Solider was tearing open the car. Steve had managed to grab ahold of Sam and Nat, they spun out of the car on his shield atop the broken car door skidding down the asphalt. Nat had reached out for me but it was too late, the Winter Solider had me. The car rolled and crashed in the middle of the bridge, and I tumbled along behind it in the grasp of a metal hand.

I lost track of where everyone ended up, all I could focus on was the road rash burning on my thigh and the pounding ache in my head. He kept grabbing onto me trying to pull me along with him. I felt like he was either going to use me as a human shield or he was ordered to keep me close. Sam opened fire hidden a few cars behind hoping to distract him long enough so I could run.

The burning ache in my leg was on fire as I sprinted in search of something to use as a weapon. I could hear Sam screaming, a common going strong on the street below and gunfire. Hydra minions pulled up in a van and repelled to the street below firing on Steve, I overtook one before he could jump stealing his rifle giving fire cover to Steve. Sam managed to escape the Winter Soldier and ran back to the wreck of his car for his wings and gave air cover.

I repelled down to help the civilians still caught in the crossfire, but as the old saying goes, 'when it rains, it pours’. The Hydra agent lay on the ground giving Steve a moment to breathe but in stomped the Winter Solider. They were a match, each getting the upper hand until the other recovered. I fired on the assassin until I emptied the magazine in the rifle, racing the nearest body to pick up their weapon. Over and over until I annoyed him to the point he walked away from Steve.

He advanced, stomping across the asphalt with a look to kill in his eyes. We fought hand to hand and I was losing, but he wouldn’t hit to kill only to maim it seemed. A knee to the stomach I couldn’t block and I doubled over. His hand wound tightly in my hair shaking me like a ragdoll. Two vehicles pulled up and out jumped the STRIKE team in full battle gear. Rollins wearing an eager grin seeing my predicament. Brock gazed my way rifle raised with nothing more than a dull lifeless look in his eyes.

The Winter Soldier pulled out a bowie knife and sunk it deep into my injured shoulder. He took pleasure in twisting and turning it watching me writhe in agony. The shrill pained screamed fled my mouth. I could hear Steve in the distance calling my name, Nat echoing it in fear. Over and over he twisted and dug the knife in. I pounded my fist on his chest and face, kicked anything I could, but all I had the energy for was the tormented anguished screams.

Brock’s head shook, his eyes blinked, clarity taking over. He lowered his rifle and bellowed out my name rushing at the Winter Solider knocking him away. The sounds of sirens heavy in the air closing in on our direction, a news helicopter already on sight above us. Brock lowered me to the ground, raging in fear, hands pulling at the med-pack in his cargo pant pocket.

“Fuck!” He raged, pain filling face. “Hold on baby girl, this is gonna hurt.”

Torturously slow he carefully pulled out the blade and covering the wound with gauze pressing down with pressure. He looked behind him seeing Rollins shoving Steve down on his knees, hands behind his back cuffing him. Another member of the STRIKE team held a rifle to Steve’s head.

“Not here,” he growled nodding up towards the news helicopter. “Lower the damned weapon!” Brock turned his attention back on me. “Hold on, I’m gonna fix this.”

“There’s no fixing what you’ve done,” I hissed, tears streaming down my face. “You lied to me!”

I was manhandled by Rollins, my arms roughly pulled behind my back causing me to cry out in torment. A heavy set of cuffs clamped down tightly around my wrists. Brock got in Rollin’s face at the treatment. Arguing I needed medical treatment, but Rollins wouldn’t listen. He hoisted me up and tossed me inside the back of the tactical van already filled with Nat, Steve, and Sam. Two geared and helmeted soldiers gun poised ready to shoot sat at the back. I landed harshly on the floor with a thud on my injured side, I couldn’t help but scream in pain. I hated this, I felt so weak and broken showing all this emotion out in the open.

Brock lost it seeing me crying in pain unable to right myself. He lunged at Rollins punching him in the face. Any thought of covering their presence from the press gone. Brock swept Rollins’s leg out from under him pinning him on his back. Spitting in fury as he pummeled his fists against Rollins. It took five members of STRIKE to pull him off Rollins and even then they struggled to hold on to him as he rushed towards the van.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned out in regret. “Baby girl, you gotta believe I’m sorry.” STRIKE pulled him away from the van and the doors slammed shut.

Rumbling down the road, the driver hitting every pothole possible throwing me around on the floor of the van. Every jolt had me hissing out in agony. Steve and Sam nudged their feet underneath me trying to get me up off the floor, at least off my injury. Grunting through clenched teeth I found myself leaning against Steve’s calves.

“She’s injured, you need to get her medical attention,” roared Sam glaring at the helmeted soldiers. They only poked him in the chest with their rifles to silence him. The larger one went as far as kicking me directly in the exposed road rash on my thigh.

“What the fuck?!” screamed Nat however before she could act the smaller soldier took out the other. We sat in stunned silence as they pulled off their helmet revealing Maria Hill.

“God it’s hot in that thing,” she groaned tossing the helmet aside. “Whose that?” She nodded towards Sam.

“Later, get us out of here,” grinned Nat.

***********

Brock growled as the Winter Soldier slammed him up against the lockboxes inside the bank vault currently holding the control chair. Brock was seething in anger, seeing red and wanting to kill them all. Every single one of them in this room. Pierce glared at him from across the room, eyes squinting in anger. He wasn’t even remotely pleased seeing all of his men on television or the bit where Brock had broken free of his control. No one, not a single participant had ever broken free of the mind control. Fought against it sure, but to completely regain control of themselves again, never.

“You’ve got one last chance Rumlow.” Alexander Pierce paced around the room. “I’m not going to put you under again, instead you’ll either follow orders or suffer the consequences.”

“Just kill me now!” Brock roared shoving against the Winter Soldiers hold only to find metal fingers wrapping themselves around his neck with a squeeze.

“You either kill that bitch or watch him do it slowly and painfully.” Pierce nodded his head toward the Winter Soldier with a smug grin.

“Kill… me… now or I swear I’ll kill you!” Brock was raging, he didn’t care what Pierce wanted, he wouldn’t touch her.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Pierce smiled stepping closer inching his face next to Brock’s. “You’ll watch as he abuses her in any way I order and it will be pure agony. Do you want to see him on top of her taking his time intimately as he chokes the life out of her? See her gutted like a fish, bleeding out and crying out for you? You’ll be helpless to do a damned thing, now again. You kill her, or he… will.”

**********

“How the hell are you alive?!” Steve stammered seeing Fury laying in a hospital bed before him. It was the last thing any of us expected to see as Maria led us beneath the dam.

I tuned out everything he was saying, ignoring the doctor and nurse fussing around me. I was done, so fucking done with everything. This shouldn’t have happened to me, all my training, all these years in covert training and I missed it. My mind wandering over the last few months, falling love with the goddamned enemy. I couldn’t help but feel betrayed, some stupid part of me was rambling on thinking I could save him. I loved the idiot, I fucking hated him, but I still loved him. The inner war raging inside me evident on my face drew Fury’s attention.

“It wasn’t fake you know,” his voice was casual, nonchalant, but the look he held in his eye said he understood as if anyone had been through the same damned thing. I only shook my head slamming it back on my gurney.

“I don’t deserve to be an agent,” I groaned as the doctor worked on my stab wound. “I can see Coulson’s disappointed face right now. Hear the judgment in his voice as he scolds me saying, 'you should have known’.”

“Y/n, Coulson would be the last person to pass judgment on you. He believed in you more than anyone else in this agency. He wouldn’t have faulted you for falling in love.” Fury only shook his head and stared at the rest of the team.

“How can you sit there and say it was real? I don’t even know what’s real anymore.” I closed my eyes fingers crossed that I’d wake up from this nightmare.

“Because I know what real goddamned love looks like and it’s the same damned look he had on his face anytime you were in his eye-line. Do you think it was just lust in his eyes in the gym? He loved you before he even knew what fucking hit him.” Fury’s honesty, showing he knew everything settled a silence in the room.

*********

“Can you pull the trigger?” Steve asked as we spied the Triskelion in the distance.

“Funny coming from the guy convinced he can save his friend,” I growled in response but seeing the same thoughts in Sam, Maria, and Nat.

“Will you stop him if it comes to it Y/n?” Steve questioned again, examining my facial features, but I wore nothing but blankness.

“Steve,” I turned to look at him, observing his attitude under pressure. “I’m not going to lie, if I can save him, I’m going to, but if I can’t … then I guess I have to end him.”

Gunshots rang out from the main control room floor, agents yelling and rushing around the hallways. Brock came barrelling out of the doors and headed up the stairwell, gun raised ready for a fight. I chased after him, ignoring the burning in my thigh and ran. Landing after landing I raced calling out his name, but he wouldn’t turn around. I finally caught up to him and pulled his leg out from beneath him. He stumbled on the stairwell landing, gun clattered across the floor.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He yelled jumping up from the ground dodging a punch. “I love you baby girl!”

We kept up our little dance, me attacking, him dodging and blocking each hit with little force on his end. He crashed through a conference room door. A massive room full of tables and windows. There was nothing but regret in his eyes. He knew I was hurt and tired, but he let me pummel my frustrations out on him. His hands fell on my shoulders in a light hold staring in my face.

“I love you Y/n, I swear to God it was real, but I’m not fighting you. Take me in, kill me, I don’t care, I won’t fight back.” Brock let go and stepped back, the panic heavy in his eyes weighing him down with the regret.

The doors to the room slammed open, Sam standing in the doorway. He was angry, chest heaving from his previous fight. Brock shoved me behind him, his protective side raging forth, scowling at Sam. He pulled off his tact vest and dropped his weapons on the ground. The signature weapons of choice the Tazer Rods rolling underneath the nearest table. Sam and Brock fist up circling each other before engaging in a fight. I made the mistake of getting in between them, I still wanted to save him. A solid force from whom I couldn’t tell sent me launching roughly into the wall, my head knocking hard against it.

“You okay baby girl,” Sam called out ducking a hit from Brock. Hearing another man calling me by the nickname he’d bestowed on me sent Brock into a rage.

“She’s NOT your baby girl!” Brock roared steadying to launch himself at Sam. At that moment the Helicarrier crashed into the building.

Glass shattering, steel snapping, and the building crumbled. Brock was swallowed in the debris before he could even react. One second he was there ready to kill Sam, then next he was gone. I knew I was screaming, trying to reach out and run towards where he was but Sam was shoving me the other way.

“Tell me you got that bird in the air?” He yelled in the commlink.

“We’re on it,” Nat called out in response. “Stay where you are.”

“Not an option,” bellowed Sam forcing me to run beside him, holding tight onto my hand.

“Where are you?” The worry intensifying in Nat’s voice watching the building fall beside them.

“41st floor!” Sam screamed over the noise of the crashing building. “Push it Y/n!” He was freaking out, partially scared we wouldn’t make it. Out the glass we jumped, free-falling through the air. Limbs flailing reaching out for the helicopter. Nat grabbed onto Sam pulling him inside.

“I said 41st floor!!” Sam bellowed in adrenaline-fueled rush eyes scanning around in panic not seeing me. “Where’s Y/n?” He lunged at the edge of the helicopter seeing me clutching onto the landing rails, my head turned back toward the building. Tears streaming down my face.

“BROCK!” I screamed in horror, I felt myself losing all grip. My fingers slipping, struggling to hold on, but I fell only to be jerked back and up.

“I got you baby girl!” Sam called out pulling me inside.

***********

I heard them talk from my hospital room, the rush of people speeding by with a gurney. I knew those boots anywhere. I jumped off my bed and jogged down the hall in pursuit. They wheeled him in a room, running about checking vitals, searching for a pulse. The hospital staff declared Brock dead. The whole world stopped. All sound, all movement ceased as I pushed myself into that room, shoved past the staff and stood beside him. They tried to shuffle me out, make me leave, but it was all jibberish.

“He’s mine!” I cried leaning my body over his burnt and battled one. “Wake up! Brock stop it and wake up!” Nat heard my voice screaming through the corridor and came running making the staff leave.

I didn’t think there were any tears left in me, but they kept coming. Flowing like a river mingling with the dirt and blood on his body. His face, that stupidly handsome face, burnt and scarred beyond recognition. I wept over his body not wanting to let go. My nose filled with the faint hint of his cologne mixed with charred flesh and burned clothing. I felt Nat watching but I didn’t care. I wanted to go back in time, I wanted him alive.

“You didn’t have to die, I could have… I could have done something, anything.” I wailed, my whole being, the very essence of everything I was faded away with each tear.

“Excuse me, Agent?” The nurse stood a few steps away, a solemn heartfelt look on her face. “This was in his pocket, I believe this belongs to you.” Her shaky hand held out a small black box and dropped it in my hand before taking her leave.

Nat herself had left the room, but I could still feel her close by. I didn’t want to open it, afraid to see what was inside, why he’d been carrying in his pocket even after all that had happened. How did it even survive his fall and stay in his pocket? My own hands shaking pulling open the lid. Inside glinting in the blinding overhead lighting was a golden lotus on a chain. Fumbling pulling it out and putting it around my neck. It was tiny, subtle, but shimmered brightly. My mind wanders back to the lotus he’d given me in the hospital and his note.

**“To the one who survives and blooms in the places she shouldn’t. I should have said it in person a long time ago, but I love you.” -BR**

I knew I had to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to let go. My head was still swimming, hazy like this was all a dream. Like he was going to sit up and laugh like this was all a sick elaborate prank. He’d become my everything, evil or not, he was a huge part of my life and I couldn’t just forget that. He pushed me harder than anyone had, made me feel like more than an agent. Brock in his own misguided life loved me.

We never talked about work on those long late nights together only about what could be. Nights full of laughter and deep conversations. Long nights full of passion-filled kisses and savory touches. Lazy days off spent in bed, tangled in each other. Forehead kisses and devoted glances. It was love, it was definitely love and I wanted it back.

“I just want you back,” the cry choking in my throat.

Any sane person would have left, afraid that the image of seeing their loved one dead on a gurney would forever be burned into their brain, but I wasn’t normal, nor did I believe sanity was a quality I held anymore. All I wanted was those nights, those long days with him back. The comfort I found in his arms. The way he looked at me in the gym sparring. I subtle winks on a mission, the shoulder kisses staring out his window on a clear night at the night sky. I’d give anything to have it all back. I placed one last kiss on his lips.

“I’ll always love you, you stupid idiot.”

**********

Hours after the fall of the Triskelion I found myself sifting through the rubble, the housing floors mainly intact but unsafe. I shouldn’t have even been there, but I left the hospital against doctors’ orders. There wasn’t anything I could I salvage from my room, nothing more than scraps of my life. I made my way up to Brock’s room, it was surprisingly untouched, covered in dust and debris that flew in from his broken window.

The cell phone I’d tossed in the trash at the mall sat on the table beside his bed. I slid it into my back pocket and walked around staring in a daze. His entire life was in this room and it was all a lie, an elaborate rouse. I sifted through everything hoping for some clue, something that should have been alarm that I missed all those months ago, but there was nothing. Nothing but the smell of his cologne. His gear and clothing hung up in no particular order in his closet all smelling like him.

I closed my eyes inhaling his scent, fingers running over the soft material landing on his leather jacket. It was black and well worn, he wore it often when we went out. I remembered the first 'unofficial’ date we had a few weeks after we’d been sleeping together. He showed up at my door wearing that jacket grinning with a hand behind his back.

_“Whatcha doin’ Brock?” I laughed leaning in my door. He pulled out the flower flashing a smirk._

_“I wanna take you out, like a date,” smirking watching me bring the flower to my nose blushing._

_“I’m in sweats,” I scoffed wide-eyed stepping back into my room. This was a bold new territory for us._

_“Then get dressed,” he flopped on my bed, hands behind his head wiggling his eyes with a smirk. “Don’t worry I won’t ogle you… much.”_

Dinner at a little Italian place, lots of wine and open conversation. Eventually making our way to a club not too far away and spent the night dancing. The memories were full of conflict. Love and happiness battling against pain and heartache. My brain still on the 'I could have saved him’ train of thought. If I’d known, I could have… I don’t know what I would have done but 'I could have saved him’ kept repeating on a heartbreaking loop. Brought back to reality hearing the building groaning and the quaking beneath my feet. I pulled the jacket out from the closet and slipped into it.

**********

For two years she shut herself away, closed herself off. She shared a floor at the new Compound with Clint and me, not that Y/n allowed herself to socialize much anymore. It’d been harder on her than any of us ever thought it would be. We were so convinced that with time, she’d move on, but it was like Brock Rumlow’s hold inside her heart didn’t want to let go. She’d hide in her room or fight as I’d never seen her do before in the gym. I heard the whispers, knew what they were saying. The worried glances, therapists sent to speak with her. The constant psychological evaluations always passed with flying colors. None of it could keep her from loving him, pining after someone that no longer existed on this earth. None of it helped her let him go.

On a rare occasion, she permitted herself to openly feel her heartbreak. Y/n sat outside on the patio staring up at the stars late at night draped in his leather jacket. The lotus charm never left her neck, usually tucked safely underneath a shirt, but on nights like this out in the air and the sky above it was held between her fingers sliding it around the chain.

“I broke another bag in the gym today,” I heard her whisper, a small laugh fled her mouth staring up at Orion. “No one said a word, not even Steve. I thought I heard you laughing at me about it for a moment after it hit the ground.”

A cool breeze whipped up over the balcony blowing her hair around her face. I watched her from the doorway, Steve stood beside me. Neither of us could have ever fathomed how deeply that secret relationship was between them. She had more than I ever had and I regret to this day everything I said to her in Sam’s house. The accusations made, the doubts that that love was ever real, but it was.

All the information I’d downloaded and released told every bit of what happened to Brock. The brainwashing, the Chair, the torture, and violence. He was a victim of Hydra, he did what he did to stay alive. My past flooding my thoughts and I understood better than anyone about being forced into something. I tried to talk to her, but there were days I doubted she’d ever forgiven me.

“I heard our song today,” Y/n smiled pulling his jacket tighter around herself. “I won’t lie, Brock, I cried. I kinda thought I was done crying after all this time, but I guess it’s not time yet.” The wind seemed to swirl around her.

On nights like this, she’d stay outside all night, awake and alert wrapped up in his leather jacket. She’d sit until dawn and watch the sunrise. We all knew she did it, but what were we supposed to do? She’d hardly speak to us unless on a mission, but she spoke to him as if he were sitting on the chair next to her. It was scary the first time I witnessed it, but Sam was right. Each person deals with loss differently, and if this is what it took for her to heal then I’d keep anyone from bothering her.

“How much longer do you think she’ll do this?” Steve spoke softly, his arms crossed leaning in the doorway. The early morning rays of the sun beginning to crest over the horizon.

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” I could see her watery eyes from where I stood as she watched the sun rising in the distance.

“Nat, it’s been over two years,” he sounded so much like a worried older brother it made me smile.

“I know,” I sighed seeing the hustle and bustle of the Compound coming to life around us. “He tried to change for her Steve, the trail he left online about Pierce and Hydra. All the bases, names of agents, sleeper cells. He was ready to die to keep her safe. I thought that kind of love only existed in movies, but that’s what he was and all for her.”

*********

Crossbones he was called, no longer a member of Hydra, but his own man. The world’s newest terrorist causing chaos and destruction where ever he went. With Pierce gone, Hydra all but defeated and no more, he struck out on his own on the hunt for revenge. They kept it from me, had F.R.I.D.A.Y. hid the files from me. Those bastards attempted to keep me in the dark and all because they’d found out Brock was alive. They all used the pain and torment I’d gone through the last two years as a reason why I couldn’t go on the mission. Steve said I’d be a liability, that I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.

I followed them anyway, hacked into their commlinks tracking their movements, not like it was that hard to follow a tall blonde in blue spandex and a bike helmet either. I was there to witness him burst out of the truck. See the mask and his new gear. Heavy tactical gear and vest marked with a white X, Hydraulic gauntlets that could do severe damage. He was barking orders for his men to run and separate, keeping the biological weapon away from Steve and the others. Whether or not he saw me was too hard to tell behind the mask. He took off through the market place and I followed close behind like old times.

My heart was pounding, a dozen anxious thoughts roaming through me. What would I say when I caught up to him? How was he even alive? I saw him dead, I was there in the hospital, there was no heartbeat. I held onto him, cried over his burnt body, and yet there he was racing ahead of me. He moved the same, the same strides as he ran. The same fluid movement of his shoulders, the sway of his arms. There was no stopping the tears welling up or the range of emotions taking over me.

“Brock Rumlow,” I yelled, my voice cracking, but I knew he heard me. He hesitated in his steps, slowing his run to a walk. “Brock, please.”

Steve came rushing in from the side, barreling into Brock knocking him to the ground. They rolled around fighting. Steve had the advantage of his serum, but Brock had hydraulic fists. I did what an insane person does and stepped between them shoving Steve away growling at him, calling him names. Screaming he was no better than Hydra, always with the pain, with the violence. Brock did not attempt to run, only paced beside me, heavy breathing echoing from behind his mask.

“Stand down Y/n,” Steve hissed, tightening his shield around his wrist.

“You stand you fuck! Beating him into submission won’t solve anything,” I raged in retaliation. I could see Wanda, Sam, and Nat edging in closer around us.

“You’re not thinking clearly, Y/n. That’s not the same man you thought you knew.” Why did Steve always have to reason? He was so hell-bent on saving Bucky, but I couldn’t save Brock?

“I can still save him, Steve!” I turned to Steve, stepping in his face, shoving my finger in his chest. “I will save him!”

The sounds of Brock behind me, the tired sigh, the huff of frustration as he dropped to the ground kneeling. The thump of his mask as it hit the dirt. That stupidly familiar scent of his cologne heavy in my nose making me close my eyes. It was surreal, a dream, but it was him. Steve pulled off his helmet, sidestepping me trying to interrogate Brock, but the only sound he made was a gruff low laugh. His eyes burning into me, the same watchful feeling they’d given. Safety and protection, admiration and devotion in that gaze. Slowly turning I met his eyes, those glorious whiskey-colored eyes that filled my dreams each night, staring right back at me.

I shoved Steve out of the way and stood in front of Brock, but he turned his head away. Panic and shame-filled his face. He stared to the side, eyes darting around the market on anything but me. His shoulders dropped, the heavy sigh fled his mouth. I knew the truth about him, he made sure of it. All the trails he’d left online, a scrambled explanation as some form of proof he’d never used me, that it was real.

“I still love you,” he grumbled angrily, but I knew that tone well enough it was aimed at himself. “but I never deserved you.” He flinched and closed his eyes feeling my hands on his face. The touch of my fingers along his scars. The soft movements nudging him to look at me.

“Come with me Brock,” I pleaded.

I knew they’d put him through a trial, maybe I could show them, prove to them he didn’t need to die. If I had to spend the rest of my life seeing him behind glass then so be it, but he was alive and I wanted him to stay that way. He was brainwashed and tortured against his will, didn’t that mean something? Thor was so quick to defend Loki, claiming he’d changed. Steve was so hellbent on saving Bucky, why couldn’t I have this? Why couldn’t I save Brock?

“I warned you,” he whispered, his hand roaming to mine lacing our fingers together. “That song we danced to each night, every time you came to my room. It was a warning sign baby girl, I was trying to tell you not to fall in love with me.” The pain in his face, the remorse in his eyes when they finally met mine.

“I could have saved you damn it!” Pleading, tears silently falling. I rested my free hand on his face. He tried to turn away, hide the scars, the damage. I only pulled him back with a gentle tug of my finger, resting my forehead against his. The guilt so thick wafting off him I could feel it when his eyes caught the glint of the lotus around my neck.

“No you couldn’t baby girl, there was never any saving a guy like me.” He pulled away, his eyes darting between mine. “The only honest thing I’ve ever done in my life was loving you.” Brock leaned his head in. The kiss was greedy and hungry, so much like the first one, we’d ever had.

Sam stepped in from behind pulling me away. There wasn’t much I could do but watch Steve interrogate Brock on who his buyer was. They argued back and forth, snide comments and anger filled the market place. It grew heated and I knew that look in Brock’s eyes, he was seeing red, not thinking clearly. Acting on animal instinct and primal vengeance. He laughed in Steve’s face, talked about Bucky and hit the trigger in his palm.

The incendiary device burning him, he yelled in pain. A last-ditch effort to take his revenge on Steve by blowing them both up. I struggled and fought against Sam, screaming out Brock’s name, but there was nothing I could have done. Wanda swirling her hands, a red mist covering and lifting Brock in the air. She was only trying to contain the blast, to keep from hurting anyone, but she’d lost control launching Brock into a building blowing the top few floors of the building into nothingness.

I fell to my knees screaming, pounding the ground around me with my fists. The shrill blood-curdling cry that fled my mouth sending a cold shiver down the back of all that was near. Tormented anguish flooded through me, every cell shattered and crumbled in a heap of despair. I felt like I was dying, the air left my lungs, vision left my eyes. My body dropped to the ground curling in on itself. A tightly wound ball of raw nerves, shaking and convulsing in panicked strain. 

Only my cries filled my ears, every other sound muted into silence. Dust and dirt inhaled in my mouth with every studdered breath. My face muddied, tears mingling with the earthen soil of the market place grounds. I cried and wailed, screamed his name over and over. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let me save him. Why wouldn’t he let me fight for him? How could he say he didn’t deserve any of what we had?

I never felt Sam hoisting me off the ground, never heard Nat’s voice offering soft words of condolences in Russian. I couldn’t hear Wanda’s cries for the destruction she’d caused, never saw the look of terror in Steve’s eyes taking in the damage all around him. I saw nothing but Brock taking the only way out he felt he deserved. His groans of pain as the fire licked his skin mingled with my screams. I felt as if I was dying, I didn’t want to live anymore. He was right there in front of me. I felt him, touched him and I couldn’t save him, couldn’t save what didn’t want to be saved.

**********

Tony came to all us trying to convince us to sign, said it was in the best interest of all of us and the world. That we needed to be monitored and reigned in. Between what happened in New York, Washingon D.C., Sokovia and Wanda’s accident in Nigeria the world felt we needed to be under lock and key only following strict instruction by some governing entity. It all sounded too much like some dystopian novel, a page out of an Orwell novel. The world’s elite protectors under the absolute control of some government, what could go wrong?

Did no one see the parallels between this and Hydra? The total control, having to do what you were told. What were the punishments if we didn’t follow orders? What was the pain point? Was it a prison, or getting disavowed and kicked out of SHIELD and the Avengers? Or was it worse? No one ever did recover the Chair after the fall of the Triskelion. None of the equipment used on Brock or Bucky was ever found, just scraps of wiring. I wouldn’t put it past anyone to use and abuse the Accords for their gain.

“We need to sign it,” Tony sighed from his chair. “We have to because of Sokovia…”

“Sokovia was YOUR fault, not ours, YOURS!” I screamed from across the room making everyone flinch. “Those deaths are on YOU! You created that abomination, so you go ahead and sign the fucking Accords, I’m not. You think you know what’s best for everyone else as long as your exempt and can still go off doing whatever the fuck he wants. All those lives are on you! I SAVED lives up there, I saved Pietro and countless others, but you… you destroy everything you touch.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who was too enamored by attention to know she was fucking the enemy for months. Brock Rumlow was a traitor, what does that make you?” Tony retorted, face full of arrogance and ego.

Tony was too cocky to think that I wouldn’t do anything surrounded by a room full of our peers but he was wrong. I stalked quietly across the room glaring in anger, he stood as tall as he could expecting a rant, another speech not the backhanded slap that left him holding his face and stumbling backward.

“Don’t… you… dare… say… his… name!” I seethed between clenched teeth. I felt Sam’s hands lightly grasp my shoulders pulling me away from Tony. He knew me well enough to know that no good would come in the next few seconds if I didn’t get away from Tony. “At least he was brainwashed into evil, what’s your excuse, money, fame, inflate your ego?”

“One day you’re going to have to choose sides Y/n,” Tony growled. “Make sure you chose wisely.”

“Any side that’s the opposite you is the right one. At least I can see you for what you are, you can’t even see or admit your mistakes. No wonder everyone around you dies, you’re a death omen!” The venom hissing out of my mouth towards Tony as Sam pulled me out of the room stung harshly with all of them.

***********

“You don’t have to do this you know,” Bucky spoke quietly watching me checking over my weapons in the parking garage, checking the motion in my hydraulic gauntlets modeled after Crossbones’.

“Of course I do,” I answered. One fight after another, always on the run, constantly being blamed for everything wrong, that had become my life. I fought to redeem myself and him.

“You don’t even know me, why would you risk it all?” Bucky stood tall, eyes scrunched struggling to understand me, what made me tick. Steve had given him a brief rundown on my past, afraid the Rumlow part of it would set him off, but it only drew him in closer.

“Bucky, I have to right his wrongs.” I stood up offering a kind smile. The similarities were uncanny. The helpless look he tried to hide in his eyes, the tiny movement of his shoulders, the faint dip in them. Just like Brock, Bucky didn’t think he deserved to be saved.

“Y/n you have your whole life ahead of you, why don’t you just run and settle down somewhere? Leave it all behind you. Aren’t you tired of running?” He looked so innocent standing there, the cooling pools of water in his eyes on the verge of a storm.

“Aren’t **YOU** tired of running?” I retorted with a smirk, my smart ass answer only made him grin.

***********

“He KILLED MY PARENTS!” Tony screamed letting out his anger on Bucky.

I shoved Bucky out of the way taking the hit of Tony’s repulsors on my shoulder. I’d be lucky if I could ever use it again, that same shoulder proving to be a hindrance. The hit grazed my skin, it burned like a hundred suns. The smell of charred flesh flooded my nose. Tony looked on in rage at keeping him from his revenge. Bucky only growled seeing me double over, hissing in my ire.

“I told you you’d choose the wrong side! Saving one traitor is going to clear your ledger Y/n! You’re worthless and weak,” Tony’s voice bellowed in the cavernous room. He was coming after Bucky with a vengeance.

The chase was on throughout the base, shots fired echoing throughout. Zemo escaped and gone, neither Steve nor I willing to chase after him, not with Tony on an emotional fury. It was hard to keep up after two super soldiers and Tony’s suit. Entering the tiny room atop the dam I saw Tony ripping off Bucky’s metal arm, his anguished yells hitting me hard. It was like a switch was flipped inside of me and all I saw was red.

I launched at Tony knocking him to the ground, pummeling him with my gauntlets smashing through his faceplate. Crushing his suit in all around him, sparks flying. Steve panting in the background crawling to check on Bucky.

“We were friends,” Tony imploded not fighting back.

“So are they,” I roared, chunks of his suit flying off in all directions.

“This isn’t going to bring him back!” Tony groaned in pain as if that would be enough to make me stop.

“Killing Bucky won’t bring your parents back either!” I kept fighting, kept hitting him over and over. The look of horror on his face staring up at me.

“You’re a traitor just like Brock, that’s all you’ll ever be!” He scowled in resentment.

Steve lifted me off Tony and shoved his shield into Tony’s chest, inching closer to his reactor. Sickly sounds of crunching metal, the reactors light sputtered and faded. Steve stood, stumbling towards Bucky and I. Tony kept yelling, screaming out in spiteful wrath, but neither Steve nor I would turn around to acknowledge him. I leaned down trying to lift Bucky off the floor, throwing his good arm around my shoulder helping him amble out of the base.

“You don’t deserve that shield! My father made that shield,” Tony’s voice cracked, only drowned out by the clang of Steve’s shield landing on the ground near Tony.

***********

She barely spoke to anyone while in her self-proposed exile. Only offered a hug to Steve before she promptly shut herself away from the world. Gave her goodbye to Bucky, a man she hardly knew but fought beside anyway. A part of her deep inside hoped that if she saved Bucky maybe she could somehow redeem the actions of Brock.

On days that T'Challa, Shuri or even Steve came to check on her, they would find her in her room in the palace. A glazed over look in her eyes as she sat on a chair on the balcony in her suite. She refused to sleep, couldn’t sleep without dreaming. None could bear to see how he still affected her so.

Each night she’d pull on his leather jacket. Pull it out of it’s hiding place and let it drown her in his fading scent, his warmth though she knew it was long gone. She’d tug it tightly around her and stare up at the sky, fingers laced around the lotus on her neck. Y/n would lay in that chair until sleep forced her eyes closed. Forced her to see him once again.

When it was too much and she woke screaming, pleading that it wasn’t real. She’d cry until there was nothing left. Dry choking sobs weighing her down. She’d let her head fall on the back of the chair and wait, wait to see the sunrise. Wait and pray to anything that was listening that he’d walk through that door. That’d he’d find her and that it was all a hoax to expose Hydra. That he was the good guy she desperately clung to all those nights so long ago in his room.

The pinks and purples of the sun streaking over the mountains, golden rays lighting the valleys and rivers. A sun that shined down on everything in its path lighting the way, giving new life on all it touched, but was never shown on him. It took her days, maybe weeks to come to grips that he was gone, that all of it was real. He was dead and gone and never coming back.

She ran for miles on end every morning trying to empty the images of him that filled her dreams the night before. Mile after mile she tried to exhaust herself but it never seemed to work. Y/n would see his face where ever she looked. Catch glimpses of his smile, hear his voice, even smell his cologne where it never should have been. Y/n found herself on a nightly ritual watching the sunset clutching tightly to the lotus around her neck.

Word traveled quickly through Wakanda and back to the King about the woman that ran to forget. The strange outsider they started to call The Running Lotus. The woman who fought and trained with the Dora Milaje in silence, not so much as a grunt ever left her mouth. The odd woman who seemed to have lost her tongue and refused to speak who could best even Okoye. It was a feat that stunned the rest of the Dora Milaje, but Okoye knew why she fought. Not to prove her strength or her superiority, she fought to forget and for that Okoye gave her respect.

Y/n was tormented with nightmares, often woke screaming his name. That was the reason she chose to leave the palace. Ashamed of how they would look at her the next morning. The whispers and blank stares over her pain for a man so broken and lost and an enemy of the world. T'Challa didn’t argue when she politely asked for someplace secluded. He promptly showed her to a tiny hut along the river. Supplies were sent every week though she never asked for such treatment. Y/n only wanted silence hoping to forget him.

It took her months of seclusion before the nightmares subsided before his smile began to fade from her memory. She had to think for long bouts of time to remember how his voice sounded, the way he affectionately called her 'baby girl’ until she couldn’t remember why she was trying that hard to remember someone dead and gone. The tormented broken heart no longer ached, the tears stopped flowing from her eyes. For the first time in months, in years she felt herself. Though she still played with the lotus around her neck out of habit, running her fingers over it and sliding it around the delicate chain.

One particular night she found herself sitting on the bank of the river watching the sun sinking in the sky. There was a quiet silence around her, nothing more than the hum of bugs and soft calls of the birds nesting in the trees for the night. Lost in thought debating whether to enter the real world again she was met with a hard nudge on her shoulder. The same one burned so long ago and the loud bleating of a goat.

“Where’d you come from huh?” She laughed watching him make himself at home trotting around her eating the long grass beside the river bank.

He only responded in another 'bah’ and went back to chomping on the grass. She couldn’t resist reaching out her hand and stroking his soft fur. Whoever he belonged to seemed to take great care in him. He was softer than she would have thought. The stomping of footsteps behind her was enough to startle her, but it was the voice that made her stand.

“Damn it Sam!” Bucky was chastising the goat with a look of disappointment. It only took him a moment to notice her. “Y/n?” He was more than surprised, assuming she had gone back home to New York long ago.

“I’m sorry, is that Bucky or Jesus?” She laughed, shook her head and chuckled even harder realizing how long it’d been since she’d heard her laughter.

“Funny coming from a woman who could pass as an Amazonian in that leather get-up.” He smiled at her and he liked how it made him feel. A simple connection after so long in his exile.

“Sorry,” she laughed again. “Did you call the goat Sam, as is Falcon Sam?” He snickered and ran his fingers nervously through his hair. Even in the fading light, she could see his flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass like Wilson so I thought it was fitting. Always arguing, doing whatever he wants and he thinks he right all the time.” Bucky wasn’t exactly sure why he felt so nervous. He didn’t have this feeling around anyone else.

“Can I hug you?” She blurted out randomly and shyly.

“Uh… sure I guess.” He chuckled, it was an odd question but she appeared as nervous as he was, even stepping from foot to foot.

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since I talked to anyone and I’m kinda freaking out that you’re a figment of my imagination.” She averted her eyes from him and back to the goat.

He remembered her being strong, confident and stoic like Clint, but this woman before him wasn’t anything like he remembered. After she disappeared upon arrival in Wakanda, Steve told him the full story about her and Rumlow. She must be the woman all the villagers had spoken of, The Running Lotus. He flashed her a charming smile though she wasn’t looking. Bucky’s eyes fell upon the golden lotus around her neck and felt a strong pull. His feet moving before he even thought.

Arms wrapped tight around her shoulders feeling her body sinking into him. The sigh of relief and the hard squeeze of her arms around him. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, her breath hot on his skin. He suddenly felt more alive than he had in years. 'She needed this’ he thought to himself, she needed this comfort and he was more than willing to give it. He held on deciding to let her be the one to end the contact when she was ready.

They stood on the edge of the riverbank lost in a moment. Broken and lost souls on the same path without even knowing it. Out of place and out of time, but somehow in the same place at that very same moment. When she finally pulled away her necklace snagged on his shirt and fell to the ground. Both follow the glint of gold as is tumbled to the ground. Curious scrunched eyes filled both their faces seeing the chain intact, the clasp still closed. Nothing on the necklace was broken and yet there it lay on the ground between them at their feet.

“You know, Steve would say that’s a sign,” he spoke softly leaning over to pick it up dropping it into her open palm.

“You think?” The delicate softness in her voice flooded his heart making it feel like home. Her fingers traced along with the lotus and the chain confused.

He watched her walk back to her hut and step inside without another word. Her disappearance tugged at his heart, his brain was yelling at him to move, to speak, make sure she’s alright but he couldn’t move. Frozen on the spot staring at her home. A burst of warmth spread through him seeing her exit with a smile on her face walking towards him.

“You wanna watch the sunset or do you and Sam have to get home?” He felt silly at the emotions flooding over him with that tiny smile of hers.

“Sure… I mean I’d love too,” he stumbled over his words. All that Brooklyn charm that got him whatever he wanted a lifetime ago replaced with awkwardness.

They sat in silence on the blanket she’d brought out with her. Side by side watching the sun as it disappeared completely and when the stars began to pop out in droves they laid back on the blanket staring above them. It felt familiar, yet strange as if they’d done this before in another life. She smiled to herself feeling his hand slide across the blanket and over hers. How perfectly his fingers fit in between hers. Y/n smiled up at the stars and said goodbye to Brock in her head.


End file.
